


Rebuilding from the Ashes

by lavenderpastels



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I kinda went a little against how the flare affects you once you're a crank, M/M, Newt (Maze Runner) Lives, Paradise, Rewriting the ending of tdc, and the cure heals faster than what it would in real time but who cares, i wrote this nonstop on 3 1/2 hours of sleep and its actually ok???, soft, some sappiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 09:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderpastels/pseuds/lavenderpastels
Summary: Rewritten end of TDC where Newt doesn't die and loves Thomas, and Thomas is really glad he isn't dead and also loves Newt





	Rebuilding from the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> hi so uh i got this idea around 9pm, wrote some, slept a bit and worked on this all day during classes while listening to 'Found Tonight' so I have no idea what to do on my homework but it's worth it
> 
>  
> 
> -lav x

“ _ Please Tommy, please. _ ”    
Thomas felt a lump in his chest, hearing his best friend whisper those words over and over amid the commotion of the dying city. Gunshots, explosions, buildings crumbling to the ground, all of it was a horrid and haunting mess of a symphony. Newt lay across his lap, head buried in the brunet’s side and hand gripping his arm as if it was a lifeline, pleading for Thomas to free him so he didn’t have to risk hurting the boy he cared for.    
But Thomas wouldn’t listen.    
Thomas would rather sit in the center of the hellish flames, holding a dying friend even if it meant he would die too. He’d rather die with him than leave the blond he had cared for so much since before the Maze.    
“Newt, just hold on, please. They’ll be here, I promise.” Thomas said slowly, careful not to trip over the words he himself had difficulty believing. He needed to stay strong. “I  _ promise _ .”   
Newt grasped those words, holding them tightly, trying to keep the surge of blind anger from bubbling to the surface, even though he knew his exhausted body wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway. He pressed himself closer to Thomas, trying to isolate his mind from the audible reminders of the warzone.   
A building nearby groaned, leaning close to falling, its flaming structure unable to carry much more stress, prompting Thomas to scoot a few centimeters to his right as a reflex, despite the fact it had no purpose. Newt’s breath hitched from the sudden movement, gasping becoming more ragged with each strained attempt for air. He clung to his sanity, or what was left of it.   
“ _ Thomas! _ ” a familiar voice called out over the fighting, and there was Brenda and Minho, running faster than they thought their legs could take them, avoiding and dodging obstacles, a bottle of the precious blue serum in one hand an a syringe in the other. The pair arrived, stumbling from stopping so quickly, shaky hands filling the syringe in a race against the clock which was seconds from running out of time to count. Thomas, though reluctant to let go of the boy, pulled Newt’s body away from his, laying the blond’s arm out so he could receive the medicine. He stared into the boy’s dark and glassy eyes, hand brushing his cheek.  Slowly, Newt’s breathing evened out, eyes, though still with a dark tint, his beautiful brown eyes welled with tears spilling down his pale face marred by the telltale veins of the virus. Thomas wiped them away, wanting nothing more to protect his vulnerable friend from the hostile world burning around them, wanting nothing more than to press his lips to the blond’s in a desperate kiss, to feel the hellscape around them disappear for only a moment, but he didn’t.    
“Thomas, we need to get him out of here, it’s not safe.” Minho panted, glancing nervously around at the carnage. Sadly, the brunet nodded, gaze not leaving Newt, he stepped back.   
“Tommy…” Newt mumbled as Minho lifted him from the ground.  Thomas was about to loop his arm around the boy but in a flash, he remembered Teresa announcing over a speaker system. She had a cure.   
Newt could be healed.   
Thomas spun on his heel, pushing himself towards WCKD’s skyscraper.    
“Thomas what are you doing!?” He heard Brenda scream, but he didn’t turn around. He needed to get the cure. He needed to save Newt.    
He slid into a corridor, racing towards a staircase and praying he was going the right way until a familiar figure stepped in front of him. He ripped his handgun from the holster, aiming at Ava Paige. She stared at him, an unreadable expression across her features.   
“Could I have saved him? Newt?” He stammered out, not believing his own words from his mind that was going a mile a second. He knew it was a facade in an attempt to have an advantage, to see if it was a lie, but the thought of Newt actually dying struck him with a wave of despair, tears flooding his eyes and tumbling past the useless attempts to keep them back.    
Ava’s eyes changed, a look of sorrow, a look of guilt, knowing that this could of been avoided. She opened her mouth to respond, but the crack of a bullet being fired cut her short as it sent her falling the the ground. Janson stood with a maniac look behind her, Thomas stumbling backwards in shock. Janson  _ tsked _ , stepping over her body as if it wasn’t there, gun leveled at Thomas’s head.    
“What a shame your little blond friend is dead. Maybe you’ll join him soon.”    
The man lurched forward, pricking the side of the brunet’s neck with something and he was attacked with sudden exhaustion, limbs feeling like they’ve been replaced with bags of lead.    
“W-what did you do…?” He groaned, sinking to the floor.   
“But not yet, we still need you.” Janson continued, sick grin spreading across his features. As darkness creeped across his vision, Thomas prayed Newt and his friends were able to get away.  He hoped with every fiber of his being, even as his mind slipped away from his control   
  


\---

  
Newt stared blankly at the wall of the berg, sounds of fighting a distant and forgotten sound drowned out from the whipping hum of the berg’s propellers. The medicine had cleared his mind, but he knew it wouldn’t last, even with the second injection Jorge had suggested. His thoughts were on Thomas, replaying the moments before the brunet had ran from him, Brenda and Minho. He held onto the bittersweet feeling of having the boy he cared for dearly hold him, the feeling of hearing his voice reassure him that it would be all ok, even though he could tell Tommy couldn’t believe his own promises.    
He treasured the gaze that Thomas had looked at him with as the serum that felt like fire in his veins was administered. It was as if everything was ok again, as if it was just a nightmare and Tommy was soothing him from the horrors of his own imagination. With the soft touch of his hand brushing away the hot tears that he had shed, he wished it never ended, if time could be frozen there, Newt wouldn’t care. 

  
He didn’t want to lose the brunet boy. Of course, he’d never wanted to lose him, remembering when he had ran into the Maze, the terror he had felt at the prospect of Thomas never returning from the greedy claws of the stone trap, or when he held the bomb back in the mountains, screaming threats, but he had never truly realized the gravity of the pain he would suffer if he were to find out Tommy didn’t make it.    
A scream jolted him from his spiral of thoughts, realizing how close it had sounded. Climbing to his feet, he dragged himself towards the sound to view Thomas laying limp on the floor of the aircraft, hand clutching at his abdomen, shirt soaked in blood. His eyes were shut, lips set in a straight line. He looked lifeless despite the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Newt watched as someone he didn’t recognize scrambled to bandage the comatose boy’s stomach in white gauze. As the person worked at the task, Newt numbly stumbled past the people around him, dropping heavily into a sitting position beside him. He shakily ran his fingers through Thomas’s messy hair as the medic finished and stepped back. From there, the exhausted boy pulled his friend into his lap to cradle him just as he had done with Newt not too long ago. He was hit with a wave of emotion, anger towards whoever did this, fear for Thomas, uncertainty over what was to come next, but he was also relieved that they made it out, happy that they were finally headed to the safe haven, but overall, he felt an overwhelming amount of love, love towards his friends that risked their lives to keep each other safe, love towards to people who died getting them this far, and love for the boy who lay against him in that moment. He slowly reached for Thomas’s hand, thumb travelling over his knuckles when he realized something was clasped in his grip. Turning his hand over, he revealed a thin vial of shimmering blue liquid. Newt took it from his fingers, rolling it gently in his palm.

“What is that Newt?” someone nearby asked. Newt glanced up to see Minho. Silently he held the vial out to him, the Asian accepting it. 

“Didn’t Teresa say she had a cure?” Frypan interjected, taking a seat beside Minho who’s attention remained on the small object.

“That would explain why he went to the tower.”

“Well there’s two ways to find out, test it on someone or ask Thomas, but he’s not in the condition to be interrogated right now.” 

Minho sighed, looking up at Frypan and Newt. The blond’s focus flicked between Thomas and the two boys sitting beside him before speaking up.

“There’s no harm in trying.” he offered in a low, raspy voice, wincing from the pain it brought in his throat.

“Are you sure Newt?”

“If I don’t take it, I’ll probably end up dead, if it doesn’t work I’ll end up dead. If it works, well that’s great.” 

Minho nodded solemnly, black hair falling in his face. 

“I’ll go get a syringe then.” Frypan answered, standing and trekking to another section of the berg. 

Minho made eye contact with Newt, giving a half-hearted smile. 

“I’m sorry that this happened.” the Asian apologized, placing a hand on Newt’s shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s not your fault. We didn't know it would happen. What matters is that we fought back and can get away.”  

Minho nodded again, smiling a little less sadly this time as Frypan returned to them. He handed the syringe to Minho, who filled it while Newt pulled up his sleeve and held out his arm. 

The friend administered the new medication, the blond wincing from the stinging pain of the serum. Almost immediately, his mind was cleared of the dazed fog, becoming more alert. He looked at his arm, noticing that the dark veins popping up around the area injected had begun to fade, some completely gone.

“Would you look at that.” Frypan breathed, watching curiously as smaller dark lines disappeared and larger ones became lighter before his eyes. Minho let out a small laugh, patting the healing boy’s shoulder. Newt smiled, gingerly brushing his fingers over the vanishing marks in disbelief. He was going to be ok.

 

\---

 

Thomas groaned, opening his eyes slowly as he adjusted to the pale yellow sunlight creeping through the ceiling of a hut. Birds were chirping nearby with the tranquil sound of waves crashing on the beach, sounds of distant conversation in the background. He tried to sit up, but a hand placed gently on his chest and a throbbing pain in his gut stopped him from going too far.

“You just woke up Tommy, take it easy.” a familiar accented voice soothed him, the hand on his chest leaving. 

The brunet turned his head, squinting through more bright light to see Newt sitting beside his cot. The boy smiled, reaching up to move a piece of hair from Thomas’s face. The first thing Thomas noticed was the absence of black veins across his best friends face, his skin clear and as beautiful as ever. His golden hair was a messy neat, falling across his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled like stars across the night sky. His smile was comforting and reassuring, a smile that Thomas could never get sick of or forget.   
The second thing he noticed, was his hand held in Newt’s, the blond slowly rubbing his thumb across the back of it.  

“Newt?” he rasped, groggy from rest. He wasn’t sure if he believed what he was seeing and feeling.

“I’m here Tommy.” 

Thomas felt tears bubble in his eyes, smiling brightly at the boy. He felt Newt place a soft hand on his cheek, wiping away the drops rolling down his face. He leaned into the touch, the touch he thought he wouldn’t ever get the chance to feel again.

“You’re healed.” he whispered, squeezing the blond’s hand happily.

“I have you to thank for that.”  

Thomas remembered the serum Teresa had made, he remembered holding it tightly as he blacked out from blood loss, hoping, praying someone would find it and give it to Newt and heal him of the Flare. It almost felt surreal, seeing the boy he cared about deeply, who was so close to death so recently, to be alive and healthy, sitting beside him and holding his hand. He treasured the moment, feeling as if they were the only two people in the world.

Without a second thought, Thomas sat up, ignoring the sudden pain in his stomach and pressed his lips to Newt’s. He felt him release his hand and move his hands up to Thomas’s face, palms resting on the brunet’s jawline.    
It felt amazing, a tender gesture between him and a boy he had gone through hell with, the boy he could always rely on, who always listened and let him cry on his shoulder. Thomas knew that the pain and strife was gone now, only raw emotion and love. The world outside may have crumbled, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t build a new one, a new one where he could live peacefully with his friends- no, family and Newt, the boy he loved.

Thomas pulled away first, touching his forehead to the blond’s and letting his eyelids fall shut, heart racing with giddy excitement

“I’m glad you’re not bloody dead Tommy, I’m really glad.” the blond giggled, placing a small kiss on his cheek. 

Thomas laughed and threw his arms around Newt’s neck burying his face in his shoulder. Newt snaked his arms around Thomas’s waist, avoiding the wounded area so he wouldn’t hurt the boy.    
“And I’m glad you aren’t either.” the brunet replied, somewhat muffled by the other boy’s shirt.    
  
\---   
  
Newt buried his face into Thomas’s shoulder, his bare chest pressed against his lover’s back and his arms looped in front of him, holding the brunet’s hands in his own. Listening to the sound of crickets chirping perkily and Thomas’s soft breaths, he was content. It had been a few months since they narrowly escaped the Last City, a few months since Newt had stayed up for days, waiting for Thomas to come back to consciousness, a few months since they shared their first kiss. Newt knew that he wouldn’t change a thing. 

From that day, their relationship only grew more as they rebuilt their lives, creating the beautiful island of Paradise into a home where they could spend forever together. It was almost like the Glade in a way, but more peaceful, without the constant threat and being able enjoy the little things, the small moments and the big ones, everything fell in place perfectly. 

Newt gazed at Thomas’s sleeping form, a small smile spreading across his features. The boy looked like an angel with his brunet hair falling gently across his face that contrasted nicely with his smooth skin tinted pink from the sun. His chest was covered by a baggy dark shirt, and a small silver capsule hung from his neck, the one that held the letter wrote for him. Thomas had insisted upon keeping it, restringing it so it would rest just above his heart. Newt couldn’t remember a time he didn’t have it on. 

A quiet sigh escaped the boy’s lips as he opened his eyes to look up at Newt, smiling softly.

“Hi Tommy.” the blond murmured, kissing him gently. Neither boy would ever get tired of those kisses, each one causing their hearts to jump no matter how many times. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Thomas questioned sleepily.

“I just woke up a few minutes ago, don’t worry Tommy.”

Thomas hummed and sank back into Newt’s embrace, treasuring the warmth of the other boy against him.

“Love you dear.” Newt yawned, pressing a kiss to the back of the brunet boy’s neck. 

“Love you too.”


End file.
